How Martha Went to Donna's Wedding (and Mickey Finally Proposed)
by Dobby's Socks
Summary: Martha and her plus one Mickey are forced by her old friend Vicky to take her place at the wedding of her old crush, Shaun Temple. It's only when they arrive that they realize the bride is none other than Donna Noble. A slight AU that takes place during The End of Time, rated for some language and alcohol, Martha/Mickey featuring Donna, Shaun, Wilf, and Minnie the Menace!


**Hello all! Bit random, this one, but seeing as it's the 50****th**** anniversary coming up, I figure I'll indulge my random whims. Ok, so this is written assuming you have seen Martha's goodbye scene in "Last of the Time Lords" and seen "The End of Time". I know the Doctor technically visits the married Martha and Mickey before stopping by Donna's wedding, but I'm claiming wibbly-wobbly timey-wimeyness and saying Donna gets married first. My knowledge of weddings comes from the two that I've been to, and various rom-coms I've been forced to sit through. So bear with me. Because, as a very wise (non-human) man once said: Never ignore a coincidence. Enjoy!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**How Martha Went to Donna's Wedding (and Mickey Finally Proposed)**

They both groaned when her mobile rang, soldier's instincts instantly waking the both of them up at the loud noise. "I swear, if that's Tish again saying your mum's throwing things at your dad—" Mickey began, already smushing the pillow over his face in an attempt to muffle the noise.

"I'll tell her you said to stuff it," she replied, reaching an arm out blindly for the phone.

He peeked his head out from under the pillow briefly. "Hang on a minute, not like that. I don't fancy being slapped."

Martha Jones and Mickey Smith were a thing, sort of. They had hit it off quite nicely after being dropped off by the Doctor in the middle of London with Jack Harkness. The Captain, for his part, seemed delighted by their mutual attraction for each other, at least until they'd told him very firmly that no, he couldn't join. Or watch. Or start a betting pool on when they'd start shagging.

As it was, they'd quickly become very close, especially when Martha found out that Mickey had nowhere to stay—living on a parallel Earth for a number of years tended to forfeit your lease. At first, she'd installed him at her dad's house, because face it, he had the space. Having been a mechanic, Mickey was able to get along right from the start with Clive Jones, but wasn't overly fond of Annalise. That had quickly earned him favor with the rest of the family.

Mickey had been planning to join right up with this Earth's Torchwood, at least until he'd discovered that Martha worked for UNIT. But since he was officially missing since mid-2006, he couldn't join an official government organization until he'd been declared found or some other bureaucratic rubbish.

She'd thought he was simply waiting on that until one day when she had stopped by her dad's to visit him he'd blurted out the question, "Would you want to work with me?"

Bewildered, she'd simply responded, "Sorry?"

"I meant, well, neither of us really _listens_, you know? To what people tell us to do, not if we think it's wrong or there might be a better way. Maybe we're soldiers, but we're not mindless. Not after everything we've seen." When she had nodded in acknowledgement of his words, he'd seemed to gather more courage. "So I was thinking, why would I want to go to work for UNIT or Torchwood and have to follow who knows how many different peoples' orders or regulations, when I could just do things how I like? Be my own boss."

"You mean like Sarah Jane does?" She'd provided the example, curious.

"Yeah, except maybe with actual guns since I don't have a tin dog or fancy lipstick." They'd both laughed at his joke; the investigative journalist was certainly in a class of her own. "But see, one thing she knows—and the Doctor knows, too—is you need somebody with you if you're going to do that. And I'd sort of like that person to be you."

She'd been floored by that. No matter what she had done in life it had always been about following directions, earning her place. Travelling with the Doctor had originally been a one-trip offer, and when Tom had gone to Africa he hadn't even asked her if she'd consider going with him. But now Mickey was offering her an equal share, a partnership, doing what they both did best.

When she'd told her family she'd resigned from UNIT, they had been confused, at first thinking she was going back to strictly hospital work. But when she'd dropped the bomb that she was instead going into the freelance alien consulting or possibly fighting business, they'd been understandably alarmed.

She and Mickey had kept at it, though. It wasn't a hard market to break into, once you got past the danger and near-death experiences. Being able to name-drop the Doctor certainly got them places, not to mention Martha's credentials from her time with UNIT; when they were able to convince others of Mickey's parallel world credentials, things went even better.

They were often away for days, and when they got back it was usually very late, which meant dropping Mickey off at Clive's was not an option. So she'd started putting him up at her place. And because her meager furniture was either too small or uncomfortable and they'd gotten in the practice of thank-God-we're-alive snogging sessions, he'd moved rather permanently into her bedroom.

So, often, that was how the morning—or the afternoon, judging by the light trying to blind her through her eyelids—found them; fully clothed, in a tangled heap on top of the blankets, and incredibly sore and tired. Terribly unromantic. Martha located her mobile and placed it to her ear as she leaned forward to finally unlace her boots. "Hello?" She said groggily.

"Martha! Oh good, thought you weren't going to pick up," said a voice she hadn't heard in a very long time.

Baffled, she simply asked, "Vicky?"

"Yeah, it's me. Got to make this short, but I need your help. See, Shaun's here—"

"Shaun?" She exclaimed out loud. "Vicky, I told you—"

"Who's Shaun?" Asked Mickey but she shushed him.

"I know, I know, get out. But he's the one who came here. He's getting married!" The despair in her voice was clear. "He's getting married, Martha, and he's inviting me to the wedding—invited everybody else from the student housing, too."

"So?" She started rubbing the sleep from her eyes, recognizing that coherency was going to be required for this conversation.

"So? _So_, I can't just say no, everybody else has already agreed! And I can't just watch him get married to some other woman!"

"Then tell him you're busy, Vicky, make something up. He'll understand," she explained tiredly.

"But- but- hang on, I only said I'd be gone a minute, I'll have to call you back," Vicky whispered, hanging up the phone. Martha gave another groan and collapsed back against the mattress.

Mickey rubbed her arm in a comforting gesture as he inquired, "What the bloody hell was that about?"

"Oh, my friend Vicky was totally in love with this one bloke, and now he's getting married and he invited her as a guest."

"Ouch," he said in sympathy. Martha nodded.

"I know. He probably doesn't realize it'd hurt her, but still. I suppose she'll just tell him she's got something to do that day and that'll be that."

"Yeah. You know this bloke?"

She shrugged as best she could when lying down. "A bit, back when I was interning at the Royal Hope. Shaun Temple, nice enough." Just then, her mobile began ringing in her hand, and with an exaggerated eye roll that got a grin from Mickey, she answered it. "Yes, Vicky?"

"Ok, I told him I was busy that day," her old friend reported, like she was her subordinate or something.

"Alright," Martha replied evenly, not sure why the other woman had deemed it so necessary to inform her, or why she still sounded nervous.

"Only I told him you'd go in my place."

Martha sat straight up in shock. "_What_?"

"He said he needed the numbers even, his fiancée wants a certain number or something," her friend hurriedly began to excuse, voice full of disdain when talking about the future Mrs. Temple.

"Vicky, I can't just go to the wedding, we barely knew each other!"

"Well I said I'd send you the details and he said that'd be great. Called me a lifesaver," she sounded proud. "Anyway, he's ok with it. Oh Martha, I just couldn't disappoint him! Look, I'll make it up to you, find you a plus one or- or—"

"I've already got my plus one, thanks," she replied, turning to look at Mickey who seemed more than a little amused at her predicament.

"Wait, what?" He sat up too.

"You do? Oh good for you, then! I'll just send you the time and place, ok? Thanks!" And Vicky hung up before she could answer.

Martha set the phone aside and sighed. "Looks like the only things we'll be hunting for today are a dress and tux, Mister."

Mickey considered this. "Think we missed a couple Autons?"

"Shut up," she laughed, smacking his arm.

OoO

They arrived at the wedding in good time; fortunately, Vicky hadn't been expected to be a bridesmaid or something, so they were allowed to simply join the rest of the guests. Mickey had seemed to appreciate the pale blue dress she'd settled on that stopped at her knees, and she felt he looked quite good in a tux even if he'd been initially uncomfortable in it. She straightened his bowtie a last time before they sat down.

A rather high-strung blonde woman who was alternating between barking orders and crying appeared to be the mother of the bride. They'd so far successfully kept out of her way. Martha had introduced Mickey to her old acquaintances from her intern days, but there hadn't been much to talk about; they certainly didn't have much in common anymore. As for the bride's friends, they didn't know them.

But once Shaun was up front with the minister and the groomsmen and bridesmaids—one who looked like she'd rather be dead than in her peach dress—were in place, Martha and Mickey were shocked to discover they in fact knew the bride.

Donna Noble, on the arm of a kind looking elderly man who could only be her grandfather, proceeded down the aisle to the Wedding March, looking radiant and happy. She certainly wasn't looking at them about ten rows back from the altar, openmouthed in shock and an almost horror because _they really shouldn't be there_. Once she'd passed, they faced each other and tried not to draw attention with their whispered conversation.

"We've got to get out of here," Mickey decided immediately. "She could see us and remember—"

"I know, but we can't just walk out of the ceremony," Martha hissed back, trying to look at things in a reasonable way. "We've got to at least stay for part of the reception. Least until the dancing starts and probably through the meal; Shaun's expecting us to stay for that, remember?"

Mickey nodded, though he looked as grudging and nervous about it as she did.

It was a simple ceremony; short and sweet, and it seemed like the two really did care for each other. Donna certainly appeared overjoyed, almost triumphant to be getting married. It might have been more appropriate for the minister to tell _her_ to kiss her husband. But Shaun was more than glad to follow the instruction.

The stood around outside the church, trying not to draw attention to themselves as the pictures were taken. And it wasn't until they spotted Wilfred Mott approach the newlyweds with a mysterious envelop that they heard it.

_Vroop Vroop_

"He's here," Mickey turned to her in surprise.

"Or he's just left," Martha said, nodding to Donna who was exclaiming over being giving a lottery ticket of all things. She hoped Mr. Mott was strong-willed enough to get the temp to check it.

"Think he knows we're here?"

"Have we been dragged back into the TARDIS to be reprimanded?" She shot back, and Mickey shook his head with a grin. "I don't think so then."

The reception hall was nice and big, so they felt a bit more at ease at the thought of blending in, at least until they found their assigned seats. Martha's was next to a placard labelled _Wilfred Mott_, and _Sylvia Noble_ was right beside his. "Why were we put with the family?" Martha almost wanted to wail.

"It's random," Mickey answered, waving an arm at the other tables where people were introducing themselves to each other. He took his seat next to a woman who introduced herself as Minnie the Menace, and she thought that not only should she try to keep Donna's family from noticing her, but she should also keep an eye on the older woman.

Unfortunately, as the meal wore on and the Menace made yet another Mickey-and-Minnie joke, Martha rolled her eyes and turned her head slightly, catching Wilfred's eye. The old man seemed glad to finally have his neighbor's attention, for he patted her hand and said, "Oh, don't mind Minnie, she's just—hang on, I know you!"

"Er, you do?" She echoed, bewildered. She'd never actually met Wilfred, only heard about him from Donna.

"Yeah," the old soldier confirmed, "you were on the computer screen during that conference call. That blonde girl—like how Sylvia's blonde, you know, that bottled stuff—she pulled it up on the computer. You were all talking about the planets in the sky! You know the Doctor, don't you?"

"Yes, but—" She tried to motion for him to keep his voice down. At the moment, Sylvia Noble was distracted talking to some neighbor or friend, but if the older woman heard the name Doctor too many times, she was bound to take notice.

Wilfred was smiling at her, however. "Well why didn't you say something? I can get Donna for you, if you like," he gestured up to the table of the wedding party, where Donna was laughing and bracing her hand on Shaun's shoulder as the best man appeared to be finishing a joke, but Martha grabbed the old man's arm.

"No, you can't, she doesn't remember us either." Wilfred seemed confused by this and she grimaced. "I'm sorry, Mr. Mott, Mickey and I ended up here by accident. My friend Vicky couldn't come and she volunteered me—we had no idea this was Donna's wedding, I swear. I'm glad to see her happy, though," she finished on a smile.

Wilfred attempted one too, but said, "She lost a lot of great friends, didn't she? Not just him."

Martha looked helplessly to Mickey for a moment, who was listening in on the conversation now. "Yes. But she's gained a wonderful husband." None of them said what they were thinking; they knew which the redheaded temp would choose if she could.

Fortunately, it was soon time for the father-daughter dance, which Wilfred had to take part in, and so the old soldier left the table. Martha and Mickey did as well, to head for the open bar.

"Am I glad we took a cab," Mickey muttered after ordering their drinks.

"We should have figured when Vicky sent the details. Chiswick," Martha shook her head. "Well, I'm glad we know she's making out okay. Better than okay, with that lottery ticket."

"That's the Boss, though, isn't it? Always trying to make sure things turn out for us. Sometimes I wonder if he's not showing up to the places we've been called to so we can get our work off the ground."

Martha turned and accepted their drinks from the bartender, handing Mickey's to him. "He can't be everywhere. I mean, even in a time machine. But maybe you're right." She had to wonder why he'd allowed Mickey to stay in this universe as opposed to the parallel one, when he'd apparently returned Rose and her mother with the metacrisis. The parallel earth had been Mickey's home the longest. And yet he'd let the man stay here, with her.

"Alright, I'm throwing the bouquet!" Donna announced in her loud way, breaking Martha from her musings, and several young women crowded around.

Minnie the Menace suddenly appeared at her elbow. "Go on!" The old woman encouraged, waving a hand at the growing crowd.

"Oh, I'm not—" She hastened to say, though not entirely sure how the sentence was going to end. She wasn't trying to get married? She didn't think Mickey would marry her?

Would he?

"Go, I'll keep your man company," Minnie shooed her away and even plucked the drink from her hand, and Martha found herself sheepishly joining the other young women, near the back. Donna had turned around tossed the bouquet.

It went long, the bride underestimating her own strength—possibly still a bit fitter than usual from all the running—and it sailed over most of the crowd. A couple women in front of her leapt up and missed, and while she had only half-heartedly reached, her honed reflexes caught the bouquet as it arched downward.

She found herself surrounded by a few women, some mutual acquaintances of Shaun's congratulating her by name, Wilfred off to the side smiling broadly at her, Mickey looking more than a bit stunned. But a brash voice cut over everything else.

"Out of my way, let me _see_ her!"

Like a deer in headlights, Martha was frozen as Donna Temple-Noble dispersed the gathering of wedding guests and came right up to her. "Nice job," the temp corrected. "You're one of Shaun's right?"

"Er, yes," she answered, despite knowing in the back of her head that at this point in her life she probably knew Donna far better.

"Well good, I was terrified Nerys was going to catch it or something." The angry bridesmaid from before outright scowled.

Shaun stepped forward. "Donna, this is Martha Jones, old university friend. You got that job at the hospital, right Martha?"

"Yeah," she answered with a nod, declining to mention that she no longer worked there.

Donna looked thoughtful. "A doctor?" Inwardly, Martha panicked, but a smile simply spread across the temp's face. "You've got to be brilliant, then."

"Not as brilliant as you," she replied truthfully, and couldn't help feeling disappointed that she couldn't prove the claim.

Donna gave a self-depreciative scoff. "It's just my wedding day." Then she nodded at something behind her. "Is he yours?"

Martha glanced back to see the redhead had been indicating Mickey, who'd taken a couple steps forward to apparently get away from Minnie. He'd gained possession of her drink as well, she was happy to note. "Er, yes?" She didn't want to assume ownership or something, after all, she and Mickey had never really talked about just what they were exactly, but he was her plus one.

Donna turned back to her new husband. "Shaun, throw him the garter."

The man seemed bemused. "Donna, it's supposed to be a surprise, random—"

"Just do it!" She ordered, though still smiling. Shaun shrugged and obeyed, causing Mickey to quickly transfer both drinks to one hand in order to catch the garter. He held it slightly away from himself, but didn't seem too alarmed or nervous, which was probably a good sign.

Several of the wedding guests clapped, Wilfred being one of the most enthusiastic. Donna was calling the photographer over. "I want pictures!"

So Martha and Mickey were forced to pose with the bride and groom, both more than a bit worried. But they couldn't help being happy that they were with Donna on this happy day; a celebration for the Most Important Woman in the Universe.

The redhead turned to her after the pictures and gave her a hug and a kiss to the cheek. "Great meeting you. Good luck!"

"I'll invite you to the wedding," Martha offered somewhat jokingly.

"You better," the other woman pointed a finger at her with a confident air, hugging her one last time before going to speak with other guests.

"Um, Martha," Mickey spoke up quietly beside her. He'd awkwardly shoved the garter in a pocket and appeared to have finished his drink.

Realizing he'd overheard her brief conversation with Donna, Martha started to wave it off as she took her own glass back. "Oh, Mickey I was only—"

"Could we go outside?"

More than a little curious, Martha placed her unfinished drink on a table and followed him out the door, still holding the bouquet. When they found a secluded spot in the garden, Mickey paced about a bit before turning back to her. "Ok, I'm going to give this a go, so try not to interrupt me. Might make me lose my nerve."

She immediately wanted to ask just what he was talking about, but felt that could possibly be interpreted as interrupting, so she simply raised an eyebrow.

"Martha, you and I, we're not exactly the best at these things. Relationships, I mean. And I think that's one of the things I like about you: you never ask anything of anybody. You just take what they give you. Sort of like I did." They both knew what, or rather who, he was thinking of in both cases. "But that's not fair to you."

"It's not fair to you either," she pointed out. After all, they were partners, and whatever wasn't good for her wasn't good for him.

"I know, so that's why I'm doing this, for both of us. Cause, I want to give you something you've never asked me for, and that means I have to ask something of you." He pulled something out of the pocket that didn't currently contain a garter. His fist was clenched around it and it was quite small, but Martha had seen a ring box before. She gasped.

"I've been carrying this around for a while—bit idiotic, what with the kind of life we're leading—"

"You're not an idiot," she spoke with conviction, though her voice seemed shaky for some reason. Her vision did, too, or was that water making things blurry?

He nodded in thanks. "Right, well, I've also learned not to be a coward. So that's why I'm asking you—" He dropped to one knee before her and opened the ring box. Inside sat a ring with a thin band and a little jewel set in that just happened to have the faintest tint of blue. "Martha Jones, will you marry me?"

Her voice seemed almost stolen as she looked down at him, his expression one of concentration and just the hint of tension waiting for her response. "Get up," she said at last, causing his eyes to widen in an almost fear as he did so. But she wanted him on an equal standing when she answered, "Of course I'll marry you!" Martha threw her arms, bouquet and all, around his neck and brought his lips down the couple inches necessary to kiss him. He responded with the fervor that only the overjoyed and immensely relieved could muster, his arms winding securely around her waist, the ring box pressing into the small of her back a kind of reminder that this was real and happening.

"Ooh Donna, you're going to love this! He asked her!" Minnie the Menace, standing in the doorway of the reception hall and peering at them through the greenery, reported in a loud, gleeful voice. They jumped apart for a moment blushing furiously at having been caught by the old woman, and then both promptly laughed at the predicament. She held out her hand and allowed Mickey to slip the ring on her finger, and it somehow looked so much better there than the last one.

Smiling, the future Smith-Joneses returned inside, more than happy to pose for another round of pictures with the Temple-Nobles.

**So this was much longer than I'd thought it would be, but I got a bit carried away with the backstory of Martha and Mickey's relationship. What can I say, it was fun. At any rate, I hope you enjoyed this piece of random AUness. Thanks for taking the time to read, and please review!**


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